


orbit

by orphan_account



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, GUYS THIS IS SNIPER X READER TOO, Implied Sexual Content, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love, fem pronouns, i talk about sex but theres no sex scene dont get horny, poor sniper, poor you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25929484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You and Spy have lot's of feelings. Also you two had sex and now you're very confused.
Relationships: Spy (Team Fortress 2)/Reader, Spy (Team Fortress 2)/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	orbit

Once again today, the toil and drag of war weighed upon Y/N’s fragile shoulders. The ache in her bones, the joints that should have definitely not been popped, and the tight strain in her muscles left her in a constant, debilitating state of pain. Their work wasn’t done quite yet, there was always tomorrow too. Doing things like fighting robots was something she’d never understand, but it wasn’t her place to understand. All she had to do was to fight. She needed the money anyways, it’s not like she could complain, not with her pay. 

Even after her years of work, there were nights when she wondered if continuing this job was truly a good idea. The war itself had already become her normal, and the only company she had were the men she fought with, and of course Miss Pauling, yet they only were able to go out for coffee maybe once or twice a year. She wondered if it was really enough for her.

Things like falling in love were forbidden. There weren’t any official rules about it, hell, even if there were, they would be ignored by nature. The proscription of love was something most of the mercenaries had enforced themselves. Y/N and Sniper had long, heartfelt discussions about the topic. Y/N had expressed a desire to fall in love and to get married, sharing her hidden jealousy of Soldier and Zhanna. 

“It’s not like I want either of them, it’s that I can’t allow myself to indulge in that happiness. I’m a mercenary, not a to-be housewife, I have to keep my loved one’s out of my work. I want to protect the people I care about, which means not letting anybody else in.”

And Sniper, who seemingly had no intense feelings about anything, could only nod in affirmation. He spoke words of understanding and resentment. They were the same in that aspect, they both wanted to fall in love, albeit Sniper more discreetly, and that’s all. 

Sniper had always hoped that one day he could bring somebody home to meet his parents, and he hated himself for not being able to before they passed. At least he could take a trip to the cemetery with them, but it still wasn’t the same. It would have to be enough though, since he didn’t have a choice anyways. 

But it wasn’t like he was searching to fall in love, he actually avoided it for the same reasons as Y/N. He figured that if it happened, he’d push all his feelings down into a little corner of his heart and move on. You see, the want to have somebody close, and the cold rejection towards anybody and everybody are ideas that can coexist. 

Things like sex, however, were different, yet almost reaped a more dangerous, bastardly result. Sex can be detached from the abundance of love and attachment, or lack of, between the two participants. It wasn’t abnormal to have one of the mercenaries gone for the evening, only to return a little later a bit disheveled. It was natural. It wasn’t dirty. 

Yet Y/N felt gross, embarrassed, and frankly just stupid for letting herself be embraced. Things like sex were fine when they weren’t emotional, but when you’re touched with such opaque tenderness, it’s only natural to feel a bit more fond of them, right?

Y/N was never making plans to have sex with him, yet when the occasion presented itself, she just embraced it. It was sudden, thoughtless, careless, yet it felt too good to pass up as just another fling. She couldn’t even see his face all the way, he refused to lift his balaclava, but she had never felt closer to another person.

Spy, the master at coaxing and manipulation, used none of his skills to seduce her. In fact, Y/N was quite convinced that he wasn’t planning to touch her at all. Perhaps he was, though, he is a master at disguise after all. That’s besides the point, it didn’t matter whether he was planning it or not, because it happened, and it left a permanent, scorching mark on her body and soul.

They were coworkers, they were in a war, hell, they were murderers, and they still find themselves in each other's arms. She sneered at the thought of his gloved hands tracing the line down her sides, and of his soft lips, kissing everywhere but her own. 

Y/N could never fully understand Spy. She’s always tried her hardest to read him, and then to predict him, but she could never do either right. It was frustrating, to be so familiar with somebody, yet know so little about them. In the moment, as her small frame was pressed onto the plush mattress, she thought that doing this was fine. He was so distant, so cold, and so untouchable that the pleasure he’d bring to her body would be enough to keep her from falling in love.

Spy already had his woman, all Y/N ever was was a replacement. Even if their relationship was open, she knew he’d always choose his lady over her. She convinced herself to feel flattered, that out of all the women in the world, Spy had chosen her. She just knew it was because she was accessible, attractive enough, and oh so willing. The thought of being chosen was nice though.

Y/N had ultimately returned to her own makeshift room, and crashed on the bed. She didn’t dream that night. 

It was only until she saw him the next morning when she began to regret her decision. Sniper had passed Y/N a mug of piping hot coffee. He had made it just the way she liked it, with just a bit of milk. 

“G’mornin’,” Sniper had said, looking past Y/N. Y/N turned around, and like she was struck by lightning, her heart skipped a beat. She had never really studied how attractive Spy was. He was tall, and his suit fit his lean body perfectly. He looked sharp, professional, and very mature. His eyes were sharp, yet they rested as an irritated, judgmental grimace. She thought to herself that maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to be looked down upon with those eyes, but flushed at the thought. Was she a masochist? Stop thinking such weird things! Bad Y/N! She tried to keep herself under control, but she was sure her embarrassment was showing. 

“Good morning,” Spy began, nodding at the girl, “Y/N, you as well.”

“Good morning,” she squeaked. She turned back around to face Sniper who was flipping through the newspaper. He must have felt her stare on him, because he looked up, tilting his head in confusion. 

He saw the look on her face, a look of panic, fear, and involuntary uncomfortability. Her cheeks were pink, a rare sight to see indeed. 

“Hey, sheila, you okay?” Sniper took a subtle glance up at Spy, who was browsing their impronto kitchen for something to eat. Spy, who was by nature, probably watching, showed no indication of Y/N’s silent distress. 

Y/N flashed a precarious smile, “yeah, I’m alright, thanks,” was all she could say.

And those swirling feelings of confusion and attraction continued to churn in the pit of her stomach. It was agonizing. It was painful. It was hard. She couldn’t do this, it was unprofessional, as Sniper would say. She reminded herself that she was only a replacement, yet this time, she latched onto the idea that she was chosen. Spy had chosen her. That was enough for her.

One night, Spy invited Y/N to relax with him in his smoking room. They sat across from each other and shared a glass of wine at the fireplace. The silence was so heavy, and Y/N cursed herself for not being able to say anything. Fuck! She always had something to say, why can’t she think of anything now?

“You’re surprisingly quiet,” Spy cut the silence with his words. Of course he had to comment on that of all things. 

“I just don’t really have anything to say, I guess,” she began, pulling her knees up to her chest, “the wine’s nice though, I’m surprised you remembered the type I like.” 

“Of course, it would be wrong of me to offer you something inadequate.” 

“Why?” she asked, hoping for something a bit more flirtatious. She wanted to hear subtle words of affection, care, and admiration. She wanted him to say something so simple, yet with so much passion laced between the syllables. She sat, anticipating. 

“You’re a guest, that’s all.”

And her heart dropped. It almost gave her a moment of clarity. Was she a teenager or something? She felt embarrassed at how she prepared herself up for the kind words of a man who didn’t love her. She was angry at herself for being so attached to him. Spy felt so far from her, and her words won’t do anything but push them farther apart. They had sex once, they’re not dating, they’re not even very close friends. They’re coworkers. They’re people who can appreciate a fine piece of art, or a delicious French meal. They’re people who just used each other for temporary satisfaction. That’s all. 

He didn’t love her, she had just convinced herself that he could, and that he then would. 

“What, you let other people in here besides me? I’m hurt!” She couldn’t help herself. She internally winced at her own teasing.

“On occasion, yes, but usually it’s for brief meetings. You’re the only person I spend time with.” 

“Why me?”

There was a pause. She hadn’t intended the question to be any deeper than their conversation, but the air suddenly changed. It must have been her tone. Spy looked at her, sighed, and looked at the fireplace, staring at the flittering, hypnotic flames that licked the top of the fireplace. Y/N thought that she had dragged the conversation into touchy territory, but upon rethinking it, if Spy hadn’t wanted to talk about it, he wouldn’t have been the one to take it there. She felt relieved, as she wasn’t the only one who was thinking about these things. 

Spy took another sip of his wine, then tapped the side of the glass with his finger, tracing around the rim. 

“I am neither the player, nor the insensitive bastard that you think I am.”

“Then why me? What about me did you like enough?” 

“You know neither of us can take this any further than it is now-”

“I didn’t say I wanted to take this further, I just want to know what you liked about me.”

“Like. Use present tense first, and second,” he stood up, and began pacing the room. Y/N turned around to meet his gaze. God he was hot. Blue eyes pierced her own. She could only glance down, uncomfortable with how close he felt, even though there were only 7 feet apart.

“It’s not a matter of liking things about you, rather, it just felt like the right thing to do. You wanted to, and so did I.”

Y/N remained quiet. He wasn’t finished. 

“But there are many things I do like about you. I hope you can understand though why it wouldn’t be professional for me to share.”

Spy strided back to his seat, pulling out a cigar and lighting it up. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” He grimmaced, looking at Y/N’s stupid wide grin on her face. She was leaning forward, face in her hands as she looked up at him with what… mischief? Excitement? Whatever it was, it was annoying, and he didn’t like what she was implying.

He made a gesture to his cigar, silently asking if she wanted one too. She nodded, as he handed her one. He placed it between her lips, and she leaned over to him, letting him light it up with his lighter. 

“Ahh… you’re so irresponsible,” Y/N started, cigar between her fingers, “don’t you have a woman back home? Aren’t you dating her? You know, the mother of-” 

“Yes yes I hear you, and no, we’re not dating, it was a long time ago, and yes, we still talk, but me and you are nothing, so you have no place to say anything.” 

Y/N booed, “you’re no fun at all.” 

Y/N pouted, and upon glancing up at Spy, was met with a small, amused smirk. 

At the end of the night, Y/N was left feeling disappointed. She wanted an answer, a confession, or anything, because the ambiguity of his words could only imply so much. Perhaps she was an idiot. She didn’t dream that night. 

In the morning, she watched Spy trudge into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Bon matin, mon ami!” She exclaimed.

“That doesn’t make any sense, you don’t say bon matin, you say bonjour, idiot,” he scowled.

She just laughed at her own joke, pouring him a fresh cup of coffee.

They had never touched each other since that night, and they were both content with that. 

Y/N believed that Spy didn’t love her. He had another woman who he orbited around, and there’s no way a small meteor like herself could throw him off his path. She wanted to be content with that, yet it hurt to think about. She wasn’t strong enough to push her feelings down, so instead, she finally embraced them. Y/N decided that she would never tell him how she feels.

After battles, the two would trudge side by side, laughing at themselves. They laughed at their failures, and successes. Spy laughed at the way Y/N tripped over her own shoelaces. Y/N mocked him for the compromising positions he’d find himself in. He laughed at Y/N for getting lost. She laughed at Spy for how silly it was, seeing him decloak and go for the kill. 

And Sniper, who had been watching all along, had mentioned to Y/Na that she should trust him more. Sniper told her that the way Spy looked at her gave it all away, and that she was just too blind to see it. 

And Sniper, who had been watching all along, could only watch as the two pranced around each other, playing a game of cat and mouse. Maybe one day they’ll finally admit to the other how things have always been.

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO TF2 FANDOM!! 
> 
> Today the notes go at the end!
> 
> I feel kinda bad because I started like... 7 different fanfics at a time but I never finished any of them. Although I am personally a true Medic lover, Spy IS my desktop wallpaper, and I do love him very much as well. 
> 
> I thought of this idea, as you can all assume, as a self-insert prompt but I just replaced my name with yours <3
> 
> I wanted to make Sniper also have a significant role in this story because I love Sniper so much I want to make him suffer <3 I'm such a sucker for like, character has unrequited love for the reader... probably because the idea of being wanted is so nice, but like, if it were to actually happen I'd feel so awful. 
> 
> ALSO do you like my French joke? I've been learning French at school for about 10 years! I decided I don't wanna take French anymore cause language is hard, also I'd be in AP French and I don't wanna take an AP course during a ~pandemic~ and also I ~hate my french teacher~ BUT THAT'S BESIDES THE POINT! (I am taking AP computer science though.............. hypocrite).
> 
> I know some pretty advanced French, so if I ever decide to write French in my writing, rest assured that I know what I'm saying!!!
> 
> Anyways, if you DON'T know French, here's an explanation. The phrase "bon matin" is a combination of bon (good) and matin (morning). This would be a directly translated version of the phrase "good morning". HOWEVER in French this phrase DOES NOT EXSIST like if you said this to somebody in France they'd just look at you weird. So the joke is that reader is pissing Spy off by speaking really shitty incorrect French!!!!
> 
> Anyways I'm pretty happy with this one, and I hope you all enjoyed reading! I love reading comments so please leave one if you enjoyed it! :D Thanks!
> 
> I have a LOT coming! So many ideas... my brain is churning!!! I only really write for the support trio, but MAYBE if I got myself feeling a type of way I'll try writing for a different TF2 merc LOL


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